Anybody who has read my blog knows that I’m really not keen on holidays. Nope. It stems from the fact that my family members have a nasty habit of dying on holidays. It’s a competition. Mostly, it’s an annoying game if you’re not playing. AND I AM NOT PLAYING!

So I approached last Friday with a little bit of trepidation. Valentine’s Day. You’ll no doubt forgive me, but I hate to answer the phone on holidays, even manufactured ones.

But this Valentine’s Day changed my mind.

Yup. It’s true. From now on, I love Valentine’s Day. And it has nothing to do with my husband, with chocolate or with flowers. This Valentine’s Day, somebody saved my life. And she did it by giving me the most terrifying news anybody ever has to hear.

CANCER

Yup. It was my doctor. And she told me I have cancer. But just a little bit. Because unlike with pregnancy, you can be ‘a little bit’ cancerous.

In all honesty, I knew it was coming. I’ve know it for years. Because I grew up a Cheeto. My idyllic childhood was spent here, at my beach, hastening the inevitable.

It was a lovely place to grow up.Photo: Offmetro.com

For my entire childhood, I wasbaked to a crackly crunch. Nobody ever used sunscreen or wore a hat. Or sat under an umbrella. If you put anything on your skin it was OIL to quick-fry you.

I was never one of the cool cats, though.Photo Credit: gawkerassets.com

When the phone rang on Valentine’s Day, I sighed. I don’t hear good news on a holiday. You know that.

The call was to give me results of a biopsy done on a weird spot on my face. A spot that had been there for quite a while, and that she had looked at several times before. It had been ugly, but only damaging to my self-image. Now? It had become dangerous.

“Elyse, I’m so sorry — it’s malignant.”

That’s not something one ever wants to hear, no matter what day it is. I’m proud to say, I took the news fairly stoically. Well, kind of. OK, a little bit stoically. (I have a reputation to uphold, here.) I fell apart later. Minutes later.

She went on to explain that the cancer was brand new — caught really early. It hadn’t grown down, which is when it becomes serious. It hadn’t even expanded out very far. It wasn’t advanced, but I’d need to have it taken off and then I would be fine. And that I should never go outside again without sunblock.

“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, Elyse. And on Valentine’s Day!”

Now, now, bloggin’ buddy, don’t worry. Remember, I am a fake medical expert. I know just what to do. In fact, Iasked for this diagnosis. Well, sort of.

You do not need to make your plans to attend a virtual funeral. I’m not going to die. Well, actually, I will, but it’s a good bet this spot on my face will not be involved. No need to plan the fiesta.

Because mine is a ZERO.

If you have to have cancer, you want to be a Stage ZERO. I don’t know how that still means I have it, but still. Zero is good. Ish.

I have Stage ZERO lentigo maligna melanoma. It’s basically a sunspot gone bad. I have already seen two doctors, and in the next couple of weeks, I will have it removed by a plastic surgeon. And bye-bye cancer!

So why does this make me LIKE Valentine’s Day? Why don’t I just add it to my list of hated holidays?

Because the diagnosis saved my life. Really.

The cancer has been caught at the earliest possible point – it just started being cancer. It hasn’t dug it’s nasty roots deeply into my face, it hasn’t spread to my lymph nodes. It hasn’t metastasized to any one of a dozen organs.

If I hadn’t gotten that call?

If I hadn’t had that biopsy?

If I hadn’t seen my dermatologist?

Then, and only then, my melanoma would have become deadly.

Now, why am I telling you all this?

It’s not to get some bloggy love, although that is always welcome.

It’s because I want to save yourskin. Right now. Listen to me, and follow my instructions precisely:

Go into your bathroom

Take off all of your clothes

Examine your skin

Check spots, moles and discolorations carefully

If anything doesn’t look right, if you have a bad feeling, if something is bigger or darker or just different, go to a dermatologist and have it checked out.

I could give you the statistics that I’ve naturally been reading compulsively. But I won’t. You’re welcome.

Instead I’ll give you a song by Eva Cassidy, a brilliant, talented singer who died of melanoma at age 33. I have long loved her music, and have included her in some of my most heart-felt stories. She was also the subject of a moving story on Nightline.

But I’m not trying to make you sad. I’m not trying to drum up sympathy for me (because really, I will be fine). But for all of us, for all those who love us, it is really important to remember: It is a Wonderful World. Let’s all hang around.

Please join me in saying thanks to the nurse practitioner who just didn’t think that spot on my face looked right, and biopsied it. Megan, I will think of you every Valentine’s Day for the rest of my life. Thanks to you, I have a shot at it being a very long one indeed.

Now – you guys reading this – go check out your damn skin. What are you waiting for? GO!

Me, I’m busily thinking up intriguing stories to tell folks when they see that I have a scar on my cheek …

I’m very lucky it was found so very early. From diagnosis to surgery was l2 days. I now look like I could have a movie career in gangster pictures, but the scar will fade.

So sorry to hear that you lost a friend so early — it’s so easy to overlook it — my spot had been there for years as a non-malignant sunspot. I have other skin issues so I go to the dermatologist annually. She just didn’t like the way it looked this time and biopsied. Smart woman.

BUT in addition to sunscreen, get your skin checked — at least by your GP — but if things don’t look quite right, go to a dermatologist. Better safe than …

You really were lucky. I completely agree about getting checked out. I had a spot removed from my back and the doc told me it was pre-cancerous. I had a sunburn on my back one time in high school – he told me that’s all it takes.

I know – I was stunned. I just freckle so I have never really sunbathed. I was out at the lake cutting class – we all were as red as lobsters. It’s the only sunburn I have ever had on my back. My family has had issues though. My grandfather had spots on his nose and ears.

Thought I’d drop over from PMAO and talk about something besides orifices. So glad you caught this sooner than Eva Cassidy. When I saw you had dug up and posted a video clip of hers I knew I had to comment and not just blow through here. She steals Over the Rainbow from Garland and makes it her own. And Fields of Gold and Wonderful LIfe and don’t get me started on Eva. You may have seen my post, “Look away. I’m hideous.” on my blog about being a swimming pool junkie when I was a kid. I am just waiting for the melanoma now. I am constatnly having my doctor check blemishes as they come up. Whack ’em off and send ’em to pathology for a biopsy. So far, so good.

Hi Dan, thanks for stopping by. I had not seen your blog until this morning when I read several of your posts. Good stuff.

Melanoma is a potentially terrifying thing — but only if you don’t pay attention. Since you do, you just need to keep that up. Luckily for me, I do, too, as do my doctors. (I have a long list of health problems and so need to have this and that checked up on at pretty regular intervals. It was time and they caught it when it had just changed over. A year earlier it had been just a flat, slightly brownish sunspot.)

I do love Eva Cassidy although her story is so very sad. Her music transcended the versions everyone else did of her songs. Just an amazing, amazing talent.

It’s intriguing how the universe works. You have one of my favorite Eva’s posted, I mention Rainbow and the Oscars do a Judy tribute, and then without seeing the above post, I mention how Fields is one of my fav Evas and there it is about your dog. Don’t think I’m a horoscope person though or paranormal geek. I have spent the night in the infamous Waverly Hills Sanatorium, been in their equally infamous death tunnel and didn’t experience ANYTHING. And I’ve been there more than once.

I’m not at all into paranormal or ghosts. I did once work in TB management, though, which was the original purpose of the Sanitorium. Nasty disease, TB (although I’ve never managed to figure out a good disease).

I have the same inevitability looming large in front of me. I’ve already had 3 moles removed, and a fourth punched to be tested. And, I have 3 more moles they want to remove just to be safe. I didn’t grow up at the beach. I grew up running wild in the desert. Same result.
I’m glad they caught yours while it was still stage zero. Hooray for that! And, thanks for reminding us all to be mindful of our skin. It is much better to be proactive and catch these things early.

Hoping all is well, spot removed, no worries. I’m surprised we don’t all have some kind of skin cancer. We baked in iodine and baby oil, used Kiss album covers (you remember the shiny silver ones) to reflect MORE rays, and then proceeded to burn and peel and blister. Geez. At least it’s a Zero. Be well!

Ah yes … the melanoma. My mom, who’s quite a bit older than you, spent much more time getting crispy in the sun, so we do the dermatologist regularly. Every six months. Mom’s always having something burned off. Typically pre-cancer thingamajigs and doohickeys. Some have been cut and biopsied, and have been Stage Zero. And, she’s still going at 90. So, you got your good news early and that’s great!

(P.S. Thanks for the reminder of the loss of such a great voice and such a young age. She really had the most beautiful voice.)

Isn’t it crazy the things we did as kids and had no idea we were risking our lives? I’m one of those lily white ones who sprayed baby oil on myself. I’m so glad you got a Zero on this test. Good for you taking care of it so quickly.

Once I got over the shock at hearing the C word it was OK. I really just posted this to get other folks to check. Because what’s the point of having a platform if I don’t stand on it and lecture from time to time?

So glad they found it at this stage! Valentine’s will be a day to remember fondly from now on.

I go to the dermatologist every year because like you I baked myself silly when I was younger. Of course, I never turned golden brown, mostly I burned my skin and then peeled. If all my freckles had coalesced, I would have had a really nice tan.

Thank goodness you found this early! With it being removed by a plastic surgeon I don’t think you will have to worry too much about a scar. Make sure you ask if he’ll smooth out any crows feet at the same time? Then you’ll just look like you had a good rest (hahaha)! Thanks for the warning!

Crow’s Feet? Hell, I’m going to ask for a full body workup! Actually he said that it will make one side of my mouth go up in a bit of a smile for a time — normally my mouth turns down a bit at the corners. I will look like Jack Nicholson as the Joker!

But I kid. I’ll be fine. I’m still looking for just the right plastic surgeon … Thanks as always for your kind thoughts!

Well, if you’re going to have the Big C, it might as well be the Little C. I’m glad you did all the right things and this can be dealt with fairly easily. I, too, used baby oil to get that “perfect tan.” Who knew back then what we know now? All we can do is keep doing the right things for ourselves given the current best info. 🙂

Thanks, Lorna. There’s nothing like the combination of baby oil and sand … and then later. I actually rarely used anything at all. I couldn’t stand the feeling of baby oil. I just let myself fry. I was bright red or bright white for my entire childhood! There are so many things that can and do go wrong with our bodies (as we both know all too well) — this one is very manageable if people pay attention!

Thank you for the prompt! I’ve had two types of cancer (one of them being malignant melanoma) so I know I’m not immune. I spent most of my youthful summers frying myself on the beaches of Southern California. I hope everyone reading your post went straight to their mirrors for a personal check-up. I’m so glad you were a “zero”!

Thanks, Janis. I hope that your melanoma was easy to treat, and the second type caught early and halted. It’s a scary word to hear, though, isn’t it? Thank you for stopping by and commenting. Stay healthy!

I think I also love Megan and I will like Valentine’s Day just a little bit more because of this story. I am so happy you are a big Zero.

Given my genetic heritage I use to think I was in the clear until my Dermatologist told me otherwise several years ago. Now I follow the instructions you detailed here at least once a year. Fortunately I was never much of a sun baby, thus far I have been clear.

Thanks Val. It will be gone within a couple of weeks. Thanks to Megan.

But as I said to Eleanor in the comments above, we were surprised by the presence of so many dark-skinned folks at the dermatology/oncology clinic. It is less expected in folks with darker skin, less recognized. But it happens. So I’m glad you check. Because at my stage it isn’t really a big deal (once I got over the shock). Later on it becomes a big deal indeed.

It feels weird liking this post. My heart fell out when I read the top of your blog, and it was all I could do to not cover my eyes for fear of what was to come. My husband was like you in his youth and I am always exploring moles on his body. I will be all over him this weekend again trying to see if anything looks shifty. All the best, my friend. Cheers!

You need to talk to my Mrs. She, too, spent our youth slathering baby oil on her skin while soaking up the rays. And even though she does (and has) visited a dermatologist regularly for the past couple years, she still hits the tanning booth from time to time – especially during these drab February days. I’m glad you heard what you heard and I know you’ll take care of it, being the medical maven you are.

No big deal, Elyse. I had mine on my arm. Missed by two doctors on two continents, so I’ve topped you. Hah! Still, not a fun thing to learn but with our coloring and having spent so much time baking in the sun to get that tan we never got, it’s inevitable.

Um, saw doctor number 1 in Florida. Doctor number 2 in Geneva. The doctor in Fla. figured it out it two years after the first visit. I had had that spot for years. I thought it was the result of a vaccination. The vaccination was suggested by a doctor friend. It turns out it was unnecessary and even a bit dangerous. Oh well. Medical advice is fickle.

Well said, well played, well done, and get well soon! This is such an important part of taking care of your health I tweeted in and Google+’ed it. My paler than pale husband went through something similar, one million hugs for spreading the SUN SCREEN word.

Girl, I’m so, so sorry this happened to you, and so, so happy this happened to you. My husband had a big, honkin’ chunk of his arm off 3 years ago from melanoma that was past stage zero, but still hadn’t spread, thank God. That is the bitch about this particular cancer.
His looked just like the pink bubble gum in the brochures in the dermatologist’s waiting room about what is NOT cancer. Wrong.
Thanks for sharing your story and for your fabulous advice.

Not the best of news, but hooray for catching it early … but a bigger applause to the way you have come to a conclusion of looking it in the way you are. … and I know The Right Angle wholeheartedly agrees with you … and I happen to be going to the dermatologist next week.

Holy moley! (sorry, couldn’t resist that one) Thank god she did that biopsy. I get all the moles on my body checked during my annual physical. My doc calls it “the Mole Patrol”. I am soooooo happy she caught this in time, Elyse.

I can’t believe all the commenters who passed up that pun. You know, when you talk about cancer, most everybody loses their sense of humor …

But you know what? This WASN’T A MOLE. Nope. It was a little brown spot that looks like a liver spot (sigh). And it was fine for a couple of years. I always thought you had to only worry about moles. Yikes. Life gets more and more complicated!

I’m glad she biopsied it too. We were both going, should we? And finally we both figured we should. It is really early, almost too early for her to tell it even needed to be biopsied!

Considering my heart stopped at the sight of the big C word! Seriously, you know I go from diagnosis to the funeral director in a nano second. Now that I’m breathing again I’ll go check, but I might have to have my cores removed after looking at myself naked! I am BEYOND happy this had a HAPPY ending!

We live in Florida…our dermatologist is our best friend!! My son was in 7th grade when we moved here…the nurse practitioner told him that as opposed to NJ, where you may have 2 months out of the year of sun damage…here you can look 80 by the time you’re 20…and showed him a scarey poster in her office with the body of a 20 year old and the face of an 80 year old!!

I hope that scared him into using sunscreen and a hat! But the oncologist said that even sitting in the car or in a sunny window can add to the problem. Who knows, though. I’m guessing it was my daily sunburn from age 6 to 19 that likely started this. But there are other causes … and plain old luck!

That makes you an honorary Australian! Congratulations. Your passport is in the post! In Australia there is so much sun we are encouraged to get naked (in the shade) and let someone wearing a lanyard and pens in their top pocket look at us regularly through a magnifying glass.

So good on you getting it checked! And good on you for sharing. Get these things checked. If in doubt, they’ll ‘whip that off, no worries’, as my dermatologist says.

I’m guessing that they can only find Stage Zero on the skin — because with internal organs and blood once you have symptoms you are farther along the path. I am pretty lucky though. And I’ve decided to have fun with my new scar… perhaps a movie role …

First, the obvious. So glad you had it checked, and that you’ll be able to get it taken care of without it becoming something that could alter everything for you, and thanks for sharing your story.

Secondly, the last time someone asked me to get naked … well, let’s just say I’m not sure I remember that far back, so please excuse my raised eyebrows. I’m mean, we’re friends, but we’re not THAT kind of friends.

J/K, of course. And in answer to your next question, no, I did not.

Not out of apathy or denial or defiance, but simply because the remedy isn’t within my reach right now, but it will be soon. When I finally have solutions as options, then by all means, consider me standing naked in front of the mirror. Okay, maybe two mirrors. After all, there’s a lot of me to inspect. 🙂

I also grew up in that era of “the more baby oil, the better” as we crisp-fried our way to those supposedly tanned bodies (which usually ended up looking more like boiled lobsters). Knowing what we know now, don’t you wish we could go back and shake some sense in those youngsters?

Seriously, I’m thankful you are out in front on this one. Yay, Elyse. 🙂

Thanks 99. Your comment about the mirrors cracked me up — I know just how you feel about that one! The NP in the oncologist’s office (not the one who gave me the news) announced my weight to everyone — somehow he lived to embarrass someone else another day …

But yes, we were crazy. But then so was every generation before us. It is only more recently that we wised up.

And I’m glad to hear that soon you will be able to see doctors. You must tell me about that because that’s really good news!

Truthfully, I have my moments! But I am a fake medical expert, which means I Googled myself silly. I learned a lot that way.

As long as I take care of it, I will be fine. Trouble comes only with not knowing, denial or inaction. So i have to suck it up. And as my dad used to say “I gotta do what I gotta do.” The alternatives are nort acceptable.

Glad for the nurse, glad for the early catch, and glad for you! I hope this post inspires more people to check. I started recently, with the funny spot on my own face that led to my Dora bandage/snarl pic. 😉 That was happily nothing, but I know that might not always be the case.

I am so happy… so relieved, Elyse, they found it early. You’re here with us and will continue to be so for a long time! Let us know how you’re feeling. I have you in my thoughts. I’m glad you posted this.
Eva

Thanks, Eva. I am lucky, and I will do what I have to do. I posted it because I know I’ve rolled my eyes at the possibility of melanoma. Even while I knew I was a good candidate — my skin is just this side of albino.

Go check your skin, though. That’s why I posted this. I could have been brave and silent and stoical.

I do check my skin regularly but always worry as well. With the 55+ sunblock I wear during the spring and summer, I still feel it’s not enough. You gave me a lot to think about. I’m SO pleased your doctor caught this early. (big smile)

It is hard to shut me up, actually, Eva! But what is the point of a health scare if you can’t help other folks get there too (???) or prevent it.

I have to say that I’ve been cavalier as an adult. I have always assumed that the die had been cast — if I was going to get it, well, the seeds were planted on Southport Beach in the 1960s. So while I did use sunscreen as an adult, I did it while rolling my eyes.

I guess I won’t be rolling them so much. Or nobody will be able to tell under my wide-brimmed hat!

Thanks for your kind words. Megan is actually a nurse practitioner — but I have a series of “Hey Doc” posts that this one fit in with nicely.